


Breathing Free Air

by RuthlesslyEfficient



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 4x13, Barry and Iris are reunited, Barry gets out of prison, Car Sex, F/M, Married Sex, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 00:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14320329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuthlesslyEfficient/pseuds/RuthlesslyEfficient
Summary: Iris is waiting as Barry walks out of Iron Heights Penitentiary. When she throws herself at him, it feels just like the moment he walked into CC Jitters, fresh out of a 9-month coma.The Barry and Iris reunion we didn't see.





	Breathing Free Air

Just like the beginning, the end of Barry's stay in prison is shrouded in déjà vu.

He's quiet as he's out-processed. He stands for one final mug shot, then changes in to the jeans, T-shirt and flannel that Iris brought for him. He laces up his Converses. A bored sergeant gives him the required information on anti-recidivism programs. As he stands there listening, sure that any second she's going to tell him this was all a big mistake and he has to stay, all he can think is, _'This must be exactly what my father felt like_.'

By the time she's done with her spiel and pulling out his personal effects, he can practically taste freedom and he's more terrified than ever they're going to grab him and take him back. If that happened, he knows, he would not be strong enough to stand it again. He would fight. He would run. _This must be what my father felt like._

The sergeant lists his items as she lays them on the table: One suit, gray; one dress shirt, white; one tie, blue; one set of wingtips, leather; one wallet, leather, containing ID, $30 in cash, a credit card and photographs; and lastly, one wedding band, gold. He grabs his ring greedily, almost sliding it on his finger and then getting an idea and tucking it in his front pocket instead. He puts his wallet in his back pocket and loads the rest of his clothes in the canvas duffle Iris had brought his clothes in.

"You're free to go," the sergeant says.

"Good luck," she adds, in a tone that tells him she says that to everyone she releases but that she's seen far too many of them come back here.

The officer next to her sounds the door release, and Barry walks out of Iron Heights Penitentiary and into the sunlight. He feels raw and vulnerable with the tall, imposing prison still at his back, but the fresh air tastes so sweet.

The people he loves are out here.

_This must be what my father felt like._

\-----

Iris is waiting for him. She's standing by her car, her hands clasped together, her eyes locked on the door he comes out of. The second he sees her, his face splits into a helpless smile, just like always. As soon as he clears the chain-link gate, she's running toward him, somewhere between smiling and crying. He drops his bag and catches her up in his arms. It feels just like the moment he walked into CC Jitters, fresh out of a 9-month coma, and she threw herself at him. She clings to him, digging her fingers into the plaid at his back.

"Barry," she sobs into his shoulder.

He tightens her arms around her waist and tucks his face closer to her neck. The shape of her against him has him so overwhelmed he can't speak. The smell of her hair. The way her shaky breath feels against his neck.

They don't move for several moments. She finally draws away just enough to kiss him. They're so emotional that it's not the most artful about it they've ever been, but god, her lips against his are so, so good. She cups his face in her hands. If she's bothered by his facial hair she gives no sign of it. He can taste salt on her lips; he's not sure if it's from her crying or him.

The sound of the sally port opening just around the corner reminds them they're still standing in front of the prison. Iris pulls back, sniffling, and smooths her fingers over the short hair at the back of his head and nape of his neck. He licks his lips to get the last taste of her. Able to think a little more clearly, he realizes he's not crying. He's too giddy to cry. He wipes the tears from her cheeks. God, he's had to do that far too often, even just since they were married.

"I missed you," he says, and that sets off a fresh round of tears from her. "No, no," he objects, kissing the apples of her cheeks. "No, don't cry. It's okay. We're together."

"I hate losing you," she says, wiping under her nose.

"You haven't lost me. You could never lose me. I'll always be yours," he promises. It reminds him of the ring in his pocket. "Oh!" he says, and steps back from her so he can retrieve it. He gives it to her and then holds out his left hand. She starts chuckling wetly and slides it to its rightful place. He can't believe how much he missed wearing it, even though he'd done so such a short time before his conviction.

"Mr. West-Allen," she jokes, tears starting to recede.

It's not that funny, but he's so happy to be with her again he laughs loudly anyway.

"Let's get out of here," he says, bending to pick up his bag.

She nods. "Do you want to…?" She gives a vague nod. "…Stretch your legs?"

He shakes his head and takes her hand. "Nah. I want to stay with you."

"I get that," she says with a grin as they turn toward the car. "I don't want to let you out of my sight ever again."

"Okay," he agrees easily. Separating from her side for the 10 seconds it takes to throw his bag in the back and slide into the passenger's seat is excruciating.

She backs the car up and then turns around. He watches in the side-view mirror as Iron Heights grows smaller and smaller behind them. Every foot farther away makes it feel like he can breathe easier.

They crest a hill and then he can't even see the prison anymore.

\-----

Barry turns to look at Iris instead; he could look at her forever and he's been deprived lately. Her hair is falling in soft waves across one side of her face. She's wearing a gold blouse that ties in a pretty bow at the hollow of her throat. Her profile is stunning: the way her brow curves to her impeccably groomed eyebrows, the darkness of her lashes above her pretty brown eyes, her high cheekbones, the line of her nose, her cute little chin. His gaze gets stuck on her full lips, which he swears to himself are his kryptonite. Those lips can entice him to do anything. Of course that brings him down a whole other path of thought, one that involves those lips on various parts of his body.

He's so caught up in his study of her that he doesn’t notice she's turned off the main road and into a roadside park until they're on a two-tracked service road. The bump bump brings him back to himself and he realizes she's pulling them into a wooded area not visible from the road. He glances back at her eyes and finds something there he knows well, so he doesn't ask what she's doing. He has his seat belt unbuckled before she puts the car in park and is working on hers by the time she turns the keys in the ignition to off. The second she turns her body toward his, shaking free of the belt, he's helping her over the center console and into his lap.

Her black pencil skirt is restricting, but it's got a convenient zipper all the way down the front and he's got it off her it two seconds flat. She wiggles over him and then settles with her knees on either side of him. She lowers her mouth to his. Where the kiss outside the prison had been graceless, this one was outright messy.

He hears her head hit the roof of the car and she mumbles an ouch, but she doesn't pull away from him, instead just getting her tongue against his. He gropes down at his side until he feels the lever and pulls it. As the seat back tilts suddenly, Iris lets out a squeak and their teeth clack together a little painfully. The back doesn't go all the way, but it goes far enough.

Barry scrambles for the bow at her neck, moving his mouth to the line of her neck. Her hands go to the button of his pants. She gets them undone enough to get her hand inside his boxers and pull him free, and then she's very gently running his tip along the smooth inside of her thigh.

"Gh- Iris," he chokes against her neck.

He drags her underwear aside and the next second she's guiding him inside.

"Barry," she breathes as she settles atop him.

Barry's head falls away to the headrest and his eyes roll back at the feel of her, warm and wet and snug around him. It's been 21 days. It feels like forever.

She holds her hips still for several moments, the fingers of one hand digging into his neck and the others into his shoulder. He forces himself to meet her eyes again. Only then does she start to ride him, rocking and grinding in that way she likes. Her gaze is intent, her mouth slightly open, her every breath deep.

"Iris," he says again.

He's got his right hand up her blouse, running along the bumps of her spine and long muscles of her back. The left is still occupied between them, half with keeping her panties out of the way and half with starting to rub her. She makes a little twist with her hips that has him pulling her closer, his own rhythm stuttering. Still, he keeps his eyes on hers.

"Soon," he warns her tightly.

She just picks up her pace. Her hands shift to cup his face and she leans down to kiss him again. It puts her chest flush with his, rubbing with every rock. His right hand slides down to grasp her ass, pushing and pulling, adding just a little more force.

"Iris," he mumbles against her mouth, the last vestiges of his composure shredding and his hips rolling mindlessly. He doesn't realize it, but his fingertips have started vibrating, pushing her closer to the edge, too. "Iris."

"Barry," she replies desperately, and that's it. He comes with a low groan, inside her as she keeps moving, with her lips brushing his, breathing her breath.

In the moments after he returns to himself, he can tell she's only a hair's breadth behind him. He amps up the vibration of his fingertips, shifts them just so, pushes back as she grinds one more time, and there. She comes, too, shaking over him, burying her face against his neck.

When she goes still, he pulls his hand from her folds and rests it on the outside of her thigh. The other one returns to massaging her back.

Iris keeps her face against his neck for several moments as their breathing slows, eventually nuzzling up toward his ear. One of her hands is wrapped loosely against his bicep and the other resting over his heart.

"I missed you, too," she says softly.

Amped up on a whole mess of hormones in his brain, his heart swimming in relief and love, Barry just starts laughing. It's infectious, and she joins him. Their giggles die out when she lifts up to kiss him again, softly this time, more the way they're usually wont to go about it. She inhales and exhales and relaxes. He likes the lazy weight of her on top of him.

"I thought about that," Barry tells her, stroking her hand over his heart. "In there. I would lie there missing you, thinking I could just go to you. The only thing keeping me in there was me. I had to just keep telling myself that it would only be for a little while, that you guys would come up with a solution."

It's a few long moments before she replies, speaking softly.

"I couldn't have done that forever, Barry. Looking at you through glass and sneaking touches. Eventually I would have told you to leave with me."

He keeps stroking her back. Up and down. Up and down. Her skin was so soft.

"Eventually," he says, "I wouldn't have been able to find a reason not to."

She snuggles even closer against him. They clutch at one another and don't speak for several minutes.

"I'll tell you, though," he finally says, "that wasn't how I thought our first time back together would be."

"Oh?" she questions with a grin.

"Yeah. I thought I'd get you in a bed and put my mouth on every inch of you," he tells her, voice getting a little husky and nudging at the top of her head with his nose.

She twists to look up at him. "You can do that for round two. I promise."

"Okay," he tells her, smiling.

She kisses him again, softly still, but this time with promise.

\----

Some time later, she pulls away and reaches for her skirt in the driver's seat. "Everybody's waiting for us at Dad's," she says when he grumbles a protest.

He nods. Skirt mostly back on her body, she climbs out of the car to get her blouse and seams arranged and aligned properly. He sits up slowly. When he glances down, he notices that these jeans aren't going to be an option for company. "Iris," he starts, and gestures vaguely when she looks.

She blushes just a bit. He finds it adorably modest for a woman who pulled over to ride him in the front seat of her car. He keeps the thought to himself because he's certainly not complaining.

"There should still be an extra pair of your pants in the trunk," she says. Since he started changing into his suit all over the city, he's got extra clothes stashed anywhere that might be convenient. In a second, he's changed into a tidy pair of khakis and coming to a halt next to her. He reaches to carefully retie the bow at her neck. He kisses her nose and forehead when he's done, and she grasps his chin to urge him down for another one on her mouth.

She returns to the driver's seat and takes a few minutes to fix her makeup from the kit she keeps in her purse. He watches, always intrigued by the process. A few touchups with a powder puff, smudging a bit of white shimmer on her cheeks with her fingertips, a reapplication of lipstick. She uses a little wipe to clean her fingers and any weird smears and then passes it to him so he can wipe away the streaks of foundation and lipstick their activities left on his face and neck.

When he finishes, he looks back at her and that amazing profile. The sunlight filters through the trees and throws a dappled pattern across her face and neck. She is, as always, the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

He finds himself full up, suddenly, of all the tenderness he hasn't been able to show her. As she starts the car back up, he says, "Hey." She looks at him. "I love you," he tells her, utterly earnest, "so much."

She looks teary-eyed again, but happy, too. "I love you, too," she replies. Sometimes he's still blown away when she says it. She blinks away those tears and says, "Now let's go home."


End file.
